Versatile
by gryffindormischief
Summary: Being married to Harry means Ginny's good at planning, and adapting to unexpected circumstances.


A/N: AH another prompt! Gets a lil risque but no smut (this is as close as I'll likely get ha) Hope you enjoy :)

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Teddy's recent obsession with Herbology was adorable at most times – his gleeful expression when Andromeda unveiled his own private green house in their yard, clapping hands and shouts when Harry delivered a rare flowering plant native to Bulgaria that managed to look angry when anyone other than Teddy got too close.

But even Teddy's unbridled happiness could only go so far when you were covered in unidentified puce colored goo – even Neville hadn't recognized the plant – and smelled like a dung heap.

Still, he couldn't fight the small smile as he dropped Teddy off with Andromeda, unscathed since Harry had used himself as a human shield, and the young boy's hair cycled through a rainbow of colors as he immediately started recounting their trip to the Forbidden Forest with 'Uncle Neville.'

Narrowing his eyes as a smirk tickled Andromeda's lips, Harry gave a small wave to the duo and apparated home.

He lands in the darkened vestibule and falters at what to do next – Harry's mental monologue in the few last hours had essentially been 'protect Teddy, get Teddy home, get myself home' – but he'd failed to consider what _exactly_ the next course of action would be.

It's only moments later that music – sultry is really the only way to describe it – sifts through the house as the warm smell of a crackling fire reaches his nostrils. If he hasn't already cottoned on to what was going on, his wife's playful voice calls from the next room, "Strip, darling."

His friendly old chest monster perks up at her tone, and the things that usually follow its use, until he makes to lift one of his booted feet and finds it impossible.

Sighing, he drops his head in defeat until Ginny calls again, much closer this time, "Harry I said- oh."

Harry glances up and catches Ginny's flummoxed expression as she takes in his appearance, likely looking like something had eaten and promptly regurgitated him whole – but not before drenching him in syrup like a stack of hot cakes. Except sadly, much less appetizing.

Ginny's stifled laughter rumbles through the space between them and he makes to glare at her, only then noticing her state of dress – or rather _undress_. Green eyes flittering over the slips of lace and satin that flirtatiously curve around her lithe body, Harry lets out a dejected moan.

She flits down the hall and returns in the span of a few seconds; sadly now covered in his own long cottony dressing gown. Which should eliminate his growing problems, but really just makes things worse, and makes Harry hate Herbology more than he ever has.

He can't be sure if it's pity or a mischievous sort of torture that has Ginny biting her lip and sighing, "My poor baby," but he's ready to forgo all concerns about possible side effects of the unidentified sap that's currently coating his entire body and whisk his wife off to uncover her silky garments – and more.

But he doesn't. Mostly because she tightens the dressing gown and rolls the sleeves past her elbows before her deft fingers make quick work of his boots and jeans, gesturing for him to step out of both before tugging his jumper and t-shirt off in one go.

Disappointingly, _he's_ now the least dressed of the two of them, but there's not much time to think about it, because Ginny's taken full charge of the situation and he's perched on the rim of the bathtub as she wets and soaps a flannel. "Andromeda's probably having a fun evening if Teddy's in the same shape you are."

Wincing as she slips his sticky glasses from their perch – and simultaneously wondering how much body hair he'll have left by the time this is over – Harry slumps and lets her slowly drag the soapy cloth over his face. "Ted's fine. Aside from any injuries associated with me body slamming him to the ground."

Ginny chuckles along with him as she drags the cloth over his neck and shoulders. "Glad to hear that. You're a much better patient than he'd be."

Harry hums in agreement, using his toes to work his remarkably white socks from his feet. "Almost wasn't when I saw what you were – and weren't – wearing when I got home."

Sorrowfully, Ginny shakes her head and shuffles him toward the shower as he slides his pants down to the floor, "I had quite the evening planned. There was melted chocolate involved."

Moaning once again as Ginny twists the shower on, pipes squealing from disuse, Harry steps into the beating water; letting the warmth trickle over his perpetually achy muscles. He feels Ginny press a short kiss to his cheek – one of the only spots on his body devoid of splattered plant matter – followed by the quiet _snick_ of the door behind her as she leaves.

After scrubbing his body thoroughly three times, Harry's waiting for the sudsy water to finish slipping past his pinked toes when the door opens again, so softly he nearly misses it. "Gin?"

Instead of answering she simply slides the curtain open and peers past it toward him, eyes dragging over his slick form. "Still up for your plans even with the delay."

Ginny taps her chin in exaggerated thoughtfulness. "I'm nothing if not flexible, and I've always been one for adapting to changed circumstances."

Just as he's about to shoo her so he can dry off as quickly as humanly possible, she pulls the curtain back even further, revealing her even _less_ clothed body – having completely forgone all coverage including the tiny lace and satin scraps.

Blinking owlishly, Harry's jaw drops as Ginny steps fully into the shower and nudges him backwards as the spray begins to slip over her body, "Don't leave me out in the cold dear."


End file.
